


The Dark Lord and His Boy

by Earth_Phoenix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Harry Potter is So Done, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spanking, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tomarry discord prompt, Voldemort is Harry Potter's guardian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 00:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18399761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earth_Phoenix/pseuds/Earth_Phoenix
Summary: Based on the following prompt: "Prompt: After Sirius died, by a series of very unfortunate events that Dumbledore could not have foreseen, Voldemort somehow becomes Harry's legal guardian."There is a catch, Voldemort can't kill Harry while he is Harry's guardian, not that Voldemort minds. Voldemort can do ~other~ things to Harry.





	The Dark Lord and His Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted and Beta'd by the amazing Dorea (Miraculous)

“Harry, we have some news.” The concerned, almost defeated tone in Dumbledore’s voice worries Harry more than whatever the news could be. He’s never heard Dumbledore so sad before. 

The arrival of Albus Dumbledore had caused a stir in the sleepy house. Petunia, who was always the first one up on Sundays had answered the door, only to wake the other inhabits with her shrill scream.

Harry had fallen out of bed, tripping over the sheets as he dashed out of his room to see what all the fuss was. Dumbledore was standing just inside the front door. Dressed in deep purple robes accented with mint green moon and stars, he was very obviously not one of them.

Dumbledore had smiled kindly at Harry, who had blushed when he remembered he was only wearing his boxers. Harry had bolted back to his room and dressed in record time. He met Dudley on the landing, who was still yawning and demanding to know what was going on.

Harry had simply ducked around his cousin and ran down the stairs, skipping the final three steps.

He needn't have hurried. Dumbledore seemed to be perfectly content peering at the photographs on the mantelpiece above the fireplace, humming to himself as he did so.

The Dursleys’ had trooped into the living room shortly after Harry. Dudley’s massive hands clasped his larger bottom, looking fearfully at Dumbledore who seemed politely confused. Vernon and Petunia had sat stiffly on the sofa, sitting side by side with matching looks of anger and horror on the faces.

Petunia kept glancing at Dumbledore’s robes, wincing, and looking away.

With some effort, Harry pulled himself back to the present. “Sir?”

Dumbledore stood in front of the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back.“It seems that Sirius didn’t know how to transfer your guardianship properly.”

A heavy silence fell over Privet Drive. The Dursleys’ glanced at each other in surprise. Petunia turned to Dumbledore, she opened her mouth to speak; she closed her mouth, shaking her head.

Harry hung his head. “I have to stay here?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Dumbledore slipped off his glasses to rub at his eyes tiredly. “Your guardianship has passed over to—Voldemort.”

Harry felt like his jaw hit the ground and he knew he wasn’t the only one reacting in surprise.

“You’re kidding, right?” Harry asked once his he had regained his ability to speak, his disbelief clear. There was no way that could even be possible. 

“After Sirius, your legal guardianship passed to the next living Black, Bellatrix. As she can’t take legal guardianship of you, it passed to the person she named as her legal stand in. Voldemort.”

Harry stared at Dumbledore. “But he can’t! He wants to kill  _ me. _ ” Harry took a breath. “Also he’s Voldemort, how does he have more right to claim guardianship over me than Bellatrix?”

“A new law passed last month — ”

“Oh my God, Lucius?”

Dumbledore nodded, “Correct, it allows living descendants of the Hogwarts Founders to keep their legal rights, even if say, they become Dark Lords.” The headmaster looked grim.

Harry could feel panic setting in.“That’s crazy. Can’t you do something?” 

“I’ve tried Harry, believe me. Voldemort has accepted his role as your legal guardian, which means that while he is your guardian, he can’t kill you.”

Harry snorted, “Oh yeah?”

“Agreeing to be someone’s legal guardian is the same as taking part in the Triwizard Tournament, it creates a magically binding contract that prohibits the guardian from killing the person they are looking after.”

“Oh,”

“It also means you have to live with him.”

“No.” Harry stood, his blood boiling. “He killed my mum and dad! Because of him, Sirius is  _ dead _ ! I will not live with him!”

“What happens to us if the boy goes?” Vernon spoke up for the first time, surprising the two wizards who had forgot the Dursleys were still present.

Harry duh his shoe into the carpet, not looking at the Dursleys.

“Yes,” Petunia patted Vernon’s thick, pudgy hand, her eyes fixed on the wall away from Harry. “Will we be safe?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore said, “With Harry with him, Voldemort would have no need to come here.”

“No!” If Harry was younger, or maybe in the privacy of his own room, he would have stamped his foot.

“I’m sorry, Harry. If I could stop you from going there I would have. Voldemort is being instant on this, unfortunately.” Dumbledore sighed heavily, “A representative for Voldemort will be here soon to collect you.”

“Who?” Harry demanded.

Dumbledore winced, “Severus Snape.”

“Snape?”

“It was the safest way, Harry,” Dumbledore looked genuinely upset and that helped quell Harry’s temper. “This way Voldemort still believes Severus is his and we know you’ve been taken to him safely.”

Harry glared, ”This is going to be a nightmare.”

“It’s only until you’ve come of age,” Dumbledore said, trying to reassure Harry. “You’d better get packed.”

Harry’s hand clenched into fists. He left the room and stomped his way up to his room, making sure his displeasure was known. It was childish and he knew it, it didn’t stop him, however.

He kicked his bedroom door shut. The Dursley’s wouldn’t like it, but what did he care? They had given up to  _ Voldemort. _

Harry packed haphazardly, throwing what little he had carelessly into his trunk. He crouched down by his head bed and moved the loose floorboard.

Mrs. Weasley had sent him a care package soon after he had arrived back at the Dursleys. Seeing the last few homemade chocolate chip cookies made his heart hurt. What would the Weasley’s say when they found out? Would he even see them again?

Replacing the floorboard, Harry walked around his room, making sure he hadn’t left anything behind. On his bedside table sat his photo album. He ran his fingers over the cover lightly, before picking it up and placing inside his trunk.

In the week he had been home, his school books seemed to have travelled all over the room, not to mention his clothes. He found his History of Magic textbook under his bed, he didn’t even remember taking it out. He found a pair of socks underneath Hedwig’s cage.

_ One day _ , he thought to himself, _ I am not going to be so messy. _

“Harry?”

At the sound of Dumbledore’s voice, Harry quickly made sure he had everything and then closed his trunk with a final snap. He dusted off his knees and fan his fingers through his hair in a last-ditch attempt to get it to lie flat.

Harry shoved the cookies into his jeans pocket and grabbed hold of Hedwig’s cage. Hedwig herself was out delivering a letter. Harry was sure that despite his change of living arrangements Hedwig would be able to find him. She had managed to find Sirius when he was on the run.

Harry stomped his way back downstairs. Somewhere in his quest to find his belongings, Severus had arrived. The man was standing next to Dumbledore in the living room. While Dumbledore seemed at home at the Dursleys, Snape looked uncomfortable and distinctly out of place.  

“How did you get here?” Harry knew his tone was rude, saw Snape’s eye twitch and didn’t care.

“I arrived, Potter, twenty minutes ago.” Snape looked annoyed at having to wait for Harry.

“How are we getting there?” Harry asked, his question was directed more at Dumbledore, but Snape answered.

“We will, of course, be travelling to the Dark Lord by Portkey.” Snape’s tone was laced was just as much rudeness as Harry’s. Behind them, Dumbledore chuckled, looking amused.

“My trunk is upstairs,” Harry informed Snape, delighting in making the man’s eye twitch. 

“Why don’t I go and fetch it, hmm?” Dumbledore said before Snape could make a scathing remark. “Severus, why don’t you shrink the owl’s cage?”

Dumbledore was humming as he slipped past and Harry couldn’t help but grin. Harry placed Hedwig’s cage by his feet, allowing Snape to shrink it before slipping it into his pocket along with the cookies.

The silence was heavy and awkward as everyone in the room waited for Dumbledore to return. Harry looked stubbornly out the window, not wanting to look at anyone.

“Right,” Dumbledore walked back into the living room, holding out Harry’s shrunken trunk. Harry took it moodily, stuffing it into his other jean pocket. 

“Harry do you want to say goodbye?” Dumbledore asked softly.

Harry looked at the Dursleys, remembering every time they locked in the cupboard, every time they had starved him or locked him Dudley’s second bedroom.

“Goodbye.”

Harry left the living room and walked without looking back to the front door. If Dumbledore or Snape thought this was odd, they stayed silent.

The three of them walked in silence to the end of Privet Drive and turned on to Wisteria Walk. Harry slipped on his jacket, having taking it before he left Privet Drive and buried his hands into the pockets.

As the reached the alleyway between Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Crescent, Dumbledore began to glance around. He slipped his wand out of his pocket and waved it and complex series of moves. They entered the alleyway and came to a halt.

“This is where we must part, for now, Harry,” Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon glasses. “I do wish you the very best of luck.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, feeling resentful.

Snape held out a broken wristwatch, “Come along then, it wouldn’t do to keep the Dark Lord waiting.”

Harry wanted to say that he took great pleasure in making the Voldemort wait, but bit back his response, settling for a scowl instead. He reached out and touched the wristwatch. He closed his eyes, he hadn’t used a Portkey since Cedric had been murdered. A feeling of dread washed over him, his stomach tying itself in knots.

“One,” Snape said looking at his own watch, “two, “ Harry squeezed his eyes shut bracing himself. “Three.”

The sickening tug of the Portkey pulled at Harry’s guts, taking him away from the Dursley’s forever.

 

~*~

 

They appeared outside a set of black iron gates. Harry stumbled, dropping to his knees, his arms shaking with the effort of holding up so he didn’t fall on his face. 

Snape wasn’t looking at him, instead, he strode forwards, pausing briefly at the gates. By the time Harry was able to stand on his unsteady legs, Snape was walking down the middle of the path and Harry had to scramble to catch up.

The path was made of loose stone that crunched under his feet. Tall hedges rose on each side. Pale peacocks walked across the well-kept grass.

Two rich mahogany doors opened as they approached, Snape leading, a bored look on his face. Harry tried his best to look unfazed, he didn’t want Voldemort to know how angry he had been at the idea of living with the man.

As they walked deeper into the manor, Harry saw Death Eaters dart out of his sight, walking quickly back into the first open door they could. Harry tried to catch one of their eyes, his curiosity ignited.

All the Death Eaters but one. Bellatrix stood at the bottom of a grand spiral staircase, a sneer on her face.

“Take him away, Snape,” she flicked her long glossy black hair back.

“My orders were to take Potter straight to him and I obey  _ him _ , not  _ you, _ Bella.” Snape’s voice was cold.

“Fine.” Bella snarled, then turned on her heel and marched up the stairs. At least Harry wasn’t the only one upset by what was happening.

They followed Bella up the stairs and along a long corridor. She stopped outside an ordinary looking door, giving Harry a final sneer and rapped smartly on the door.

There was a moment’s pause and then that cold, high voice that haunted Harry’s dreams spoke. “Come in.”

 

~*~

 

The Dark’s Lord’s office was cold, the large oak desk held an air of imposing elegance. The fireplace wasn’t lit. The windows behind the desk had the curtains drawn, stopping any natural light from entering the room. 

Severus spoke first. “My Lord, I have the Potter boy.” He placed a large hand on Harry’s shoulder, pushing him forward.

“Well done.” Voldemort stood, his red eyes flashing with something Harry would rather not think about. Voldemort still looked very much like his snake self. A long thin face with only slits for a nose. Harry shuddered.

“Bella, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Voldemort’s attention caught Bellatrix unawares. She looked at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times.

“I too wanted to welcome the boy.”

_ “Cruico, _ ” Voldemort said lazily, his wand held loosely in his hand. “You know I despise liars, Bella.”

Harry looked away, wishing he could block out the woman’s screams.

“Leave us,” Voldemort ordered lifting the curse. Bella quickly got to her feet, fleeing the room. “You too Severus, I wish to talk to Potter alone.”

Severus bowed respectfully to the Dark Lord, before turning and exiting much more gracefully than Bellatrix had.

“Sit, Potter, we have much to discuss.”

Harry eyed the high back leather chair in front of Voldemort’s desk with unease. He thought about protesting. Bella’s screams rang in his ears and he sighed heavily as he sat in front of his enemy.

“I’m sure you’re cross about this,” Voldemort’s thin lips curled in a smirk, “but I believe we can benefit from each other, Potter.”

Harry scowled. “My scar isn’t hurting,” he said, eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, “Would you prefer to be in constant pain?”

“No,” Harry admitted grudgingly.

“Well then,” Voldemort said it so matter of factly that Harry could only stare. “While you are under my guardianship I only have a couple of simple rules for you to follow.”

Harry folded his arms across his chest, he doubted very much that Voldemort’s rules were going to be “simple.”

“The first is that you stay away from the Death Eaters. I have told them they aren’t to touch you, but…,” he trailed off.

“Fine,” Harry bit out. He didn’t want to hang around the Death Eaters anyway.

“The second is that while you’re here, you will attend summer classes to keep you occupied.”

Harry groaned, of course, Voldemort would give him summer school. Stupid, old nerd, Harry thought grumpily. Though, on the upside, if it meant being away from  _ Voldemort. _

“And finally,” Voldemort grinned, “from now on, whenever you speak to me, you will call me Sir.”

Harry stared, open-mouthed. “No.”

“No, what?”

“No, fuck you.”

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, “You’re a year too young for that, Potter. You’ll have to make do with your hand.”

Harry gaped at the man, completely at a loss for words.

“Shall we try again?” Voldemort asked in a mock gentle voice.

“I am not calling you Sir.” Harry snapped.

“Well,” Voldemort pushed his chair back, “I rather think I have a cure for that.” He patted his lap. “Come here, Potter.”

“No.”

Voldemort sighed, his wand once more appearing seemingly out of nowhere in his hand. “Come here before I make you.”

Furious, but unwilling to let Voldemort levitate him, Harry rose stiffly from his chair and walked straight back around Voldemort’s desk to stand next to the man.

“Drop your jeans and underwear,” before Harry could argue Voldemort continued.“If you argue, I will make you do this naked and I promise that you will hate that more.”

Harry shook with anger. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to hex the smug bastard of a wizard in front of him. To run from the room and out of the manor. A voice in his head, that sounded suspiciously like Hermione’s, told him not to act rashly. If he ran now, he would only be dragged back at best, or at worst, Crucio’d. 

He very much did not want to be put under the  _ crucio  _ ever again. He breathed heavily, nostrils flaring as he fought himself. Voldemort only smirked at him.

Voldemort was looking a _ t him _ . Too late Harry closed his eyes. Voldemort laughed, actually laughed.

“Are you done fighting with yourself? Your inner voice is correct, by the way.”

Harry peaked open an eye, offering Voldemort his best silent glare, Harry unbuckled his jeans, allowing them to drop to knees, before pushing down his underwear.

Voldemort grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him over his lap. Harry yelped, he wiggled on Voldemort’s lap.

“Quiet,” Voldemort said, pressing a hand to the small of Harry’s back pressing him down. “For your rudeness, you will receive ten spanks. If by the end, you agree to the terms, you may leave and go to your room.”

“I am not agreeing to anything.”

“You will, Potter, you will.”

Harry hated how confident Voldemort sounded. Moving his arms under him, Harry pushed up. He had had enough of Voldemort already.

Voldemort pushed Harry back down, grabbing his wrists and squeezing them tightly with one hand.

“Move again and I start losing my temper. I will _ Cruico _ you, don’t think I won’t.”

Harry glared at the floor, refusing to acknowledge Voldemort.

“Harry,”

Harry jerked, it was the first time the Dark Lord had used his first name. He twisted his head to look at the man.

“Fuc--”

“Consider who you are about to swear at again, and consider if that’s something you want to be doing.”

Harry closed his mouth, his jaw working angrily. At last, he nodded his head, lying stiffly over Voldemort’s lap.

“Smart choice. Ready? Then we will begin.”

Harry wrapped his ankles around the legs of the chair, his body tense. Voldemort rested a hand on top of his arse for a moment before the first smack came down.

Harry bit down on his lip, pain radiated from his arse. His body tensed again, waiting for the second blow to fall. It seemed to take longer this time, the smack landing on his other arse cheek. Harry swore under his breath, his arse on fire already.

Voldemort quickened the pace, letting the smacks rain down on Harry’s bare skin in a fast tempo. His smacks landed on tops of Harry’s thighs.

Harry whimpered, tears threatening to fall. Voldemort paused when Harry sniffed.

“Cry if you want, today can’t have been easy.” Voldemort stroked Harry’s hair tenderly.

Harry didn’t reply, afraid his voice would betray him. Voldemort sighed and brought his hand down again. Harry fought back a sob, teetering on the brink of tears.

Voldemort’s hand came down twice more, before stopping. “Well?”

Harry shook his head, refusing to give in.

“On your head be it.”

The spanking changed; before Voldemort had kept his smacks even. Now they came down harshly, taking the wind from Harry, making in gasp aloud with pain.

Finally, Harry cried. The stress of the morning and now _ this _ . Shame and humiliation twisted in his guts. Tears slipped from Harry’s eyes, running down his ruddy cheeks.

Voldemort didn’t let up, instead smacking Harry harder. Harry sobbed his chest heaving, his shoulders shaking with the force of his tears.

After what felt like a lifetime, Voldemort stopped. He gently lifted Harry up, cuddling the crying boy to his chest. Harry clung to him, his hands grasping the front of Voldemort’s black robes tightly and he pressed his face in Voldemort’s chest and sobbed.


End file.
